Becoming Damon
by Grace4Delena
Summary: Everybody has a history. Sometimes sad, sometimes not. Who knows what's the truth behind Damon Salvatore?
1. If Only

**Well, Hello everyone :)**

**This update wasn't expected, but it actually came out of a discussion I've had with Stroumfita about YCNBS. I've had this particular scenario in my mind since like... forever. It's how I've always imagined Damon's first kill. Ruthless, painful and crazy. You might wonder how does this fit into YCNBS...Well, let me just say you're gonna like what she's planning, ok? :)**

**Oh, and if you hadn't read her fic, "You Can Never Be Sure", please do it! It's really really good! :)**

**In the meantime, enjoy this flashback!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries , even though the thought of it haunts me at night :p Some lines are actually taken from the show. You'll know which ones, 'cause they're flawless and I'm not NEARLY that talented. ^^'**

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_"If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better, until knowing better is useless."_  
-John Green, Looking for Alaska-

* * *

It had been three days.

Three days since that sad excuse of a human being that went under the name of Giuseppe Salvatore had murdered his sons. And he had done so without knowing that by killing them, he had doomed them to become what he himself despised most.

Damon couldn't help but think about that. His father. His father had killed his own flesh and blood without even blinking. All because Damon had fallen in love with Katherine and had tried to save her from her fate. At the thought of the beautiful vampire, Damon's heart cringed.

She was gone.

And with her, everything that had ever held any meaning for him.

Katherine Pierce had been the reason he had wanted to live forever. He had wanted to share eternity with her, roam the streets of the world and watch it change and progress. That life had been so clear in his mind. So bright and colorful.

And now?

Now everything was black. Pitch black.

Stefan had imposed this life on him and weak as he was, he didn't even have the courage of taking that life away.

It wouldn't even had taken that much.

Throwing his ring in the lake and walking into the sun would have sufficed.

Not that he hadn't tried.

In his head, he had talked himself through it a thousand times, but in the end, fear had overcome him. Emily had mentioned that every feeling or emotion that one had experienced in his human days would be amplified once in vampire form. Along with that reasoning, Damon had deduced that, since as a human he had had a strong self-preservation instinct, that particular quality of himself had been magnified by Katherine's blood. It made sense. He didn't have to like it, but it did make sense.

...

To be honest though, what he had missed most in those few days had been the company of other people. Of the Salvatore family, he had always been the most sociable one. He had always enjoyed the shy looks of the fair ladies of Mystic Falls and the nights spent in the company of his comrades, drinking and smoking cigars.

Damon loved how people often fought to get his attention. He was liked and he knew it. Just like his mother before him.

That was what had eventually brought him to court Katherine. She hadn't seemed to be affected by his double entendres or his good looks. She wouldn't blush and giggle, but wholeheartedly laugh and throw a remark back at him.

Just like that.

Damon had been simply and utterly amazed. And quickly enough, the courting that had initially started as a personal challenge, turned into love and affection.

That being said, he still loved the attention. Craved it, even. That was what eventually convinced him to leave the barn he was taking shelter in and head for Fell's Church. He was well aware of the fact that he couldn't go to his hometown. Seeing the dead son of the wealthiest city's landlord pass by, would probably draw too much attention.

He traveled fast, running through the woods with vampire speed and reached the town without hitch. Damon stood behind the bushes, smiling to himself and sighed with relief. He looked down at himself. Aside from the bullet-hole on his blouse, his clothes were acceptable. A little muddy here and there, but not enough to cause people to start wondering what was wrong about him. Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped into the light, basking in the warmth of the sun.

That was when it hit him.

The stench of urine burned his nose, the sour smell of sweat made him narrow his eyes and the bittersweet aroma of bourbon made his mouth water. It was overwhelming. It was exhilarating. And with that thought in mind he walked, mingling with the locals, enjoying every single step. The only downside to this new elation was that weird sensation he'd had in his throat for the last few days and that was now insistently demanding his attention. It was as if someone had burned his throat with acid and was now pouring salty water in his mouth. Every time he'd swallow, the burning would increase and become more prominent. He needed a drink. That would do the trick.

...

Damon's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, searching for a tavern. Eventually he did find one and entering it in all haste, he walked over to the bar.

« Bourbon. Neat.» The bartender glanced over his shoulder, slightly nodded and grabbed a glass from a dusty shelf, filling it with the amber liquid Damon craved. As soon as he had it in his hands, he downed it in a single sip. « Again.»

The burning seemed to show him some mercy.

As he drank the second glass of bourbon, and then a third and a forth, he found it easier and easier to bear it.

He could finally enjoy what he had come to Fell's Church for.

« Mr. Salvatore?» Damon quickly turned to the direction where the voice was coming from. He should have know better. Of course there was someone in this town that knew him and his family and that would know about his death. He jumped off his chair, leaving his pocket watch on the counter. It was more than worth the four glasses of cheap bourbon he had consumed and he knew the man behind the bar wouldn't dream of protesting about that kind of payment. With that, the vampire ignored the black-haired girl that had called him by his name and strolled to the door. « Mr. Salvatore, is that you? It's me, Cora.»

Damon froze mid-step. Flashes in his mind brought to his memory this two years old girl, the daughter of one of the housekeepers of the Salvatore estate. Theresa, if he wasn't mistaken. The brat used to tackle him anywhere he went and that used to incredibly annoy him.

Or so he had always said.

His father wouldn't have wanted him mingling with the help, god forbid admitting to like them.

In reality, he secretly adored her. She was the cutest little thing, with her rosy cheeks, plump lips and curly black hair. In time, he had discovered that the child had quite the sweet tooth and to please her, during breakfast Damon would slip a slice of corn bread in a napkin and leave it on a funny-looking root of the secular oak tree that dominated the backyard. Then he would go to his room and watch the girl find it and eat it, a contented smile plastered on her face.

...

One day though, during a storm, being unable to follow the usual procedure, he had decided to give the corn bread to Theresa, so that she would give it to Cora. Well that day, his father thought the maid had stolen the piece of food and had banned her and her daughter from the estate, all but throwing them out in the pouring rain. He had tried to explain that he was the one that had given her the bread, and that she hadn't in fact stolen it, but you couldn't reason with Giuseppe Salvatore.

...

At the age of 12, he had been taken to his room, forced to bend and suffered the lashes of his father's leather belt until his buttocks bled.

«Cora? Is that really you?» The young woman smiled at him and clapped her hands.

« I knew it! From the moment you walked through the door, I knew it was you!» Damon was taken aback. Was it really that little one? In a tavern?

« Cora… What are you doing in here?» Cora blushed and looked at her feet.

« I… I work here. Me and mama both do. She's upstairs with a client right now.»

Oh no. No. No no no.

« Cora, are you a public woman?»

« Yes, Mr. Salvatore. I am. » She smiled sheepishly.

« How old are you?» Damon asked, trying not to look horrified.

« I have just turned twelve.» Twelve! She was a child! « I have been doing this for just a year thought. Grant says client ain't gonna pay much if you don't look girly enough. Mama works here since we left your home.» Dear God. It had been his fault. She was a child who was supposed to run free and chase butterflies and instead she was selling herself for a lousy soup.

Damon felt a rush of despair course through his veins. No. No. He had to do something. He had to take her away from that dreadful place.

« How do you even remember me? You were a toddler. » Cora sat at a table, gesturing for Damon to join her. He just looked at her, confused.

« Please play along Mr. Salvatore. If Grant thinks I'm lazing about, he'll beat me. Pretend you're a client and we'll be fine. » At that, the vampire sat. « I remember someone used to put a piece of cornbread on my oak. I remember it was warm and soft and it filled my mouth with the most wonderful taste.» Damon gulped and he was suddenly aware of the fire burn in the back of his throat. « I don't really remember you from back then, but mama has shown me paintings of you. I've held you dear in my heart for all these years. » Cora's cheek were tinted of the faintest red. Normally he would have been flattered.

Instead he felt sick in his stomach.

And the feeling in his throat was becoming unbearable.

« Mr. Salvatore, I...» Cora took his hand and leisurely caressed his palm. « I don't have anything to offer to someone with your social standings but…. I could...Amuse you, if you like.» Damon retrieved his hand as if he had been burned and fought the urge to flee.

He had treasured the memory of this little girl so jealously in his heart that he now had troubles hiding the anguish and the pain this proposal was causing him.

Damon actually felt nauseous even if he was sure of the fact that vampires couldn't get sick. His intestines were all tied up in a knot and his heart ached with every beat.

This little girl thought she could show gratitude only by offering her body.

That knowledge left him out of breath.

« Cora, I could never. » Damon breathed. The girl raised her head to look him in the eye and he saw them filling with tears. « Cora, I...» The peasant took one of his hand in hers.

« Oh please, Mr. Salvatore! I know I am not nearly as pretty as the company you are accustomed to, but I promise you, you won't be disappointed! Please!» Tears streamed down her face and Damon panicked. He hated it when women cried and moreover, a public girl throwing a fit wasn't really what he needed right now. And her smell was so intoxicating. She smelled of sweat, water and flowers. She smelled like happiness. Her pulse was throbbing, just under the skin of her neck.

« Shh Cora. Don't cry. Listen, why don't we go in one of the room upstairs? I'm sure the owner won't mind. I've paid him well.» Cora's face lit up and she threw herself at Damon, hugging him tightly. The vampire suddenly felt lightheaded, the scent of the girl overcoming his senses. When Cora released him, he felt the urge to bring her back to his lap and drown in her scent again. It was so… mouth-watering.

« Yes! Yes! I promise you, Mr. Salvatore, you won't regret it!» Cora ran up to the bar and exchanged a few words with the bartender, who looked at Damon and gave him a quick nod. Cora smiled at the vampire and started to run up the stairs, motioning for him to follow her. Reluctantly, Damon obliged, slowly tracing the child's steps. When he got the the room she had entered in, he closed the door behind him and turned to face the girl. Cora quickly started to undress herself and Damon all but launched himself at her, stopping her movements. Her young breasts were exposed and he did his best to ignore them and her innocent, snow-white cleavage.

« Cora. No. I beg of you, stop.» He would take her with him. He would find a nice home for her, one where she could be happy. He would compel someone to take her in and protect her, always.

Someone who, unlike him, would be up for the task.

« But… Why?» The disappointment in her eyes almost killed him. How could a child have such thoughts!

« Cora, I'm gonna take you away with me.» Cora tilted her head to a side as Damon let out the words, his forehead sweaty.

« Away…? Away where?»

« I don't know. I will find a place and will convince the owners to hire you as maid. I will get you out of here. This is not the life you should be living, and I am going to fix it.» Damon's mind was spinning and he could barely focus on the thoughts he was having.

« But...Mr. Salvatore… I don't know how to be a maid! My mama does, but I only know how to entertain men!»

« Then I will come back and I will bring her to you.» Damon felt dizzy and nauseous. His own pulse was racing and his breath ragged. His brain was throbbing in his skull and he felt like the only way to ease the fire in his throat was to rip it out of his neck.

Cora remained silent for a moment, letting the truth of Damon's word sink in. Slowly, she raised a hand to her mouth, choking on a sob.

« Oh, Mr. Salvatore...» Reaching out with her free limb, Cora grabbed Damon's blouse and pulled herself to him, snuggling against his chest and sobbing lightly.

The vampire opened his eyes wide and inhaled deeply. Jesus Christ, she smelled good. Without even realizing it, he found himself staring at her neck and the truth clicked inside of him.

He could give a name to the burning sensation that was slowly making it impossible for him to stand.

Katherine had talked about it.

It was the thirst.

Damon hadn't fed since his transition and now his new vampire body demanded nourishment.

One that common food couldn't provide.

As the thoughts in his mind became clearer and clearer, he raised his head to stare at the ceiling, and just whispered « I am sorry, Cora.»

He just couldn't resist. There was nothing he could have done. It was the self-preservation instinct, he said to himself. He couldn't fight it.

In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed Cora's head, twisting it to the side and had sunk his aching fangs into her neck, tearing her flesh in the heat of the moment. Blood pooled inside his mouth. Vibrant, young, sweet blood, that instantly eased the burning in his neck. He groaned as it filled his stomach with life.

He groaned as he felt the little girl in his arm trying to escape his mortal embrace.

And the more she struggled to get out of his grasp, the more he tightened his grip. And the more effort she put into the action, the more her pulse increased, sending even more blood into Damon's hungry mouth.

And that feeling...That feeling of power and greatness. That voice in his head that whispered "You can do anything. The world is yours. You see it, you want it and you take it. That's how easy it is."

It was heaven.

Damon drank from her greedily until Cora's body went limp and he let it fall on the floor as he enjoyed the sensation of being truly well-fed.

Sadly though, as the blood-rush started to fade and his over-reactive senses returned to normal, reason came back into his mind.

The greatness and the power were quickly replaced by guilt and impotency. Gut-wrenching guilt. The kind of guilt he had always imagined Dante's damned had felt in the lowest circles of Hell.

« No. » In a blur, he went to kneel beside her, taking her in his arms and shaking her violently. But he knew. He couldn't hear her heartbeat, or her breathing. The room was filled with a loud burdening silence. « No no no no. Cora! What have I done!»

Still muttering to himself, Damon dragged himself to the nearest wall and held onto it for dear life, staring at the lifeless body lying in front of him. Nervously, he passed a hand through his hair, leaving the adrenaline work itself out of his body.

Of all the people.

Of all the people he could heave met in the spit of a city that was Fell's church. Of all the people whose lives he could have ended, fate had decided that Cora would have to be his first kill.

Kill.

He had killed a human being.

Damon got up and started pacing. He had to get rid of the body. He had to grab Cora, take her in the forest and let the animals finish her off, just like he had been told.

And yet, he felt like he couldn't. How could he further rage against Cora, knowing what her life had reserved her?

But then again, if he didn't, chances were people would eventually wonder. And Mystic Falls wasn't that far away.

...

Damon cried for the little girl. He cried for the life that she would never have and he cried for the life she had been forced to live.

Damon also cried for himself. He hadn't wanted this life.

He hadn't planned to turn into some kind of children-killing monster, like the ones that parents put in their storied to scare their sons and daughters. Just like the one that his father had made up so that he and Stefan wouldn't go play in his study.

When he felt like he had no tears left to cry, he gently pulled the girl up from the ground and put her on the bed, where he tucked her in under the covers.

Katherine had told him that getting rid of the bodies was essential in order to have an easy life among the humans. She had insisted on it. But at this point, he didn't care. And even if someone had over-heard them talking, they would report a Mr. Salvatore. One, the only one still standing as far as people knew, was in Mystic Falls. The other two had been reported dead. A tragic accident.

No, Damon was going to make her rest in peace. In a bed. Tucked in as a child should always go to bed. The vampire placed a kiss on Cora's forehead and left the room, exiting the building through a window.

If only the thirst hadn't been so strong.

If only Katherine had been alive. She wouldn't have allowed him to hurt Cora.

If only Stefan hadn't come to him with that girl, tempting him with her blood.

If only he'd have had the strength to refuse this life.

If only he had died in peace.

If only.

* * *

**So. Here we are.**

**What did you think? Have I met your expectations (if you even had any!) and gave you a nice (so to speak) insight of Damon's head?**

**Let me know, will ya? Just click on the nice little blue button, down here ;)**

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**TOODLES!**


	2. Disease

**Hey everyone :)**

**So, the thing is, Stroumfita has convinced me to get on this ship and start writing a multichapter story. **

**It's kinda unusual, because it doesn't really have a plot. **

**Well, not a plot in the traditional sense anyway. It has a theme, and that is Damon. **

**I love the character deeply, hell, someone might even say I'm obsessed with him. Maybe I am. The thing is, I have his whole life very clear in my head. Every trauma, every happy moment, every heartbreak. Everything. **

**From time to time, while editing LTLA or YCNBS (which you just HAVE to read, if you still haven't) I would say to Stroumfita You know what? I don't think Damon would do that. , and then I would share one of my "moments" with her. At some point she suggested I gathered all of those moments up and write some kind of "memoires". I think she's right. **

**That being said, I really hope you enjoy this collection of stand-alone fics.**

**This particular one will be focusing on Damon dealing with the fact that Elena is hating him about turning Isobel (that means somewhere around 1x17) and reminiscing about his own mother's death.**  
**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries , even though the thought of it haunts me at night :p Some lines are actually taken from the show. You'll know which ones, 'cause they're flawless and I'm not NEARLY that talented. ^^'**

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Dis-ease /dɪˈziːz/ _noun _[U,C] **1 **An illness affecting humans, animals or plants, often caused by infection **2 **Something that is very wrong with people's attitudes, way of life or with society.

* * *

Damon aimlessly wandered through the rooms of the boarding house, alcohol slowly leaving his system, as he thought back to his latest conversation with Elena Gilbert.

≪ _How long are you going to blame me for turning your birth mother into a vampire?≫ _

≪ _I'm not blaming you, Damon. I've accepted the fact that you're a self-serving psychopath with no redeeming qualities.≫ _

≪ _Ouch.≫ _

That had actually hurt. Damon hated to admit it, but the girl had kinda grown on him. At first, because she looked like Katherine, but then...Then something happened and he had started to genuinely worry about her. He had found himself wanting to do something other than bringing back his long lost love. Helping her out by helping whoever it was around her that needed help, for instance. Help being the key word, if that wasn't clear enough. Not that he had let it show. He wasn't that _stupid_, yet. Caring was a weakness.

After all, he couldn't really blame her for hating him. He would have done the same, had he been in Elena's place.

Hell, he _had _been in her place.

OOO

_Mystic Falls, 1848 , Salvatore Mansion_

Damon was standing just outside his mother's rooms, eavesdropping. His father had forbidden him to get anywhere near that wing of the house, but he couldn't care less. His mother was sick, and he wanted to hold her hand, like she had done countless times for him. It had always helped.

≪ _It's magic, darling boy.≫ Angel had explained. ≪Mother and son have a special bond, you know? When God was merciful enough to bless me with the joy of a child and you were in my womb, ou__r souls __connected and merged. We are one. Every time you feel pain, I feel it as mine. That, is because our souls ache in the absence of the other.≫ Damon had clenched his mother's hand , desperately holding onto her, regardless of his fever._

≪ _Mother! What can we do? I don't want you to hurt!≫ Angel lovingly smiled to her son._

≪ _Neither I you. Now child, I'm about to tell you a secret. A secret that has been passed along in my family, your family, for generations. You cannot speak a word of it. Not even to your father. ≫_

≪ _I promise, mother.≫ Angel slowly leaned down and whispered in Damon's ear._

≪ _You have to hold onto my hand. As tight as you as long as you can. See, God has given us hands that fit like the pieces of that dissected map that you have received for your birthday. The one you like so much. If they lock together properly, they are one, aren't they? And in this moment… ≪ Angel gently took her son's hand and intertwined his small fingers with hers. ≪ Here. Can you feel it? The heat? It's our souls, rejoicing in each other's presence. ≫ Angel felt Damon squeezing her hand, and she smiled in response. ≪ This always helps.≫ _

≪ _Mother… I feel...≫ The small boy, reassured by his mother presence, and exhausted by the high fever, drowsily closed his eyes. ≪ Mother?≫_

≪ _Yes, Damon?≫ _

≪ _Will you hold my hand, until the fire is gone?≫ Angel caressed Damon's cheek, placing a feather like kiss on the burning skin._

≪ _Always.≫ _

Damon would use the magic on his mother. They hadn't seen each other in days! That was the reason why she couldn't get better! He felt so frustrated, because he knew he could help, and yet he wasn't allowed to do anything. Angel had made him promise. It was a secret not even his father could know about. Not that he would ever confide in his father. All he ever did was scold him.

≪ Tell me, doctor. How is my wife?≫

≪ I'm afraid Mr. Salvatore, it's the while plague. Consumption.≫ Damon heard a thud and a sigh, probably coming from his father who had taken place in an armchair

≪ May God have mercy on us all.≫ Squeaking sound of leather. And now they were both sitting.

≪ Listen, Mr. Salvatore. Your maids have been shrewd in covering Mrs. Salvatore's lips with a wet cloth. It has been discovered that the illness resides in the lungs Had that gesture not been made, other residents of this house would have already fallen ill.≫ Another squeaking sound ≪ This disease has been widely studied in Europe. There are a few eminent colleagues near Mystic Falls, too. Doctor John Croghan has started a project in Edmonton County. He wishes to isolate the patients and cure them in a controlled environment. It is intricate, but plausible. And I think your wife would be a perfect candidate. ≫

Damon understood only half of that, but he did know what consumption meant. He had read about it. It was bad, and the doctor was suggesting they sent his mother away! How was he supposed to help her, if she was away!?

≪ I want her gone. ≫ No! No, he couldn't do that! Damon heard the doctor sigh softly.

≪ Very well. I'll arrange for her relocation.≫ Damon listened to the tapping sound of somebody's steps.

≪ No, doctor. I want her _gone._≫ The boy furrowed his brows in confusion.

≪ Mr. Salvatore, I'm afraid I do not…≫ The doctor gasped ≪ Mr. Salvatore!≫

≪ I want that filthy illness hotbed nowhere near my house. And she'll never go willingly.≫ Damon's mind was spinning. He wanted to _force_ his mother out of the house? And why was the doctor so upset about the idea?

≪ Mr. Salvatore. You offend me. I am a doctor, and I took an oath. "I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel".≫ "Deadly medicine"?

≪ I can pay you well for you services, doctor. Breaking your oath will grant you a new house.≫

≪ I'm afraid you shall try bribing somebody that has less morals than myself. I will not kill a human being.≫

≪ NO!≫ Damon shouted, coming out from behind the wall, before he could even think about the consequences.

≪ Damon! Get out of this room this instant, or you will taste the end of my belt.≫ Giuseppe said menacingly.

≪ But father…!≫

≪ Now. Damon. ≫ Damon should have ran away.

He should have.

Instead, he ran further into the room, and launched himself on the double door separating the study from the bedroom.

≪ Mother! Mother! ≫ Damon looked at the bed where his mother was sitting, a pile of pillows behind her back for support and a cloth over her mouth. As he entered the room, she placed a hand over her heart, jolting in fright. After a second, fear left her eyes, replaced by a comforting, sweet, loving gaze.

≪ Damon… I am so...≫ Angel started coughing. A deep, loud, vibrating, scary cough that touched Damon to the core. His mother was so sick. Ignoring his father's curses from behind him, he jumped on the bed and grabbed his mother's hand.

≪ I will help you, mother. They kept me away, but I am here now.≫ Angel looked at the little boy, blinking. And then tears welled up in her eyes. ≪ Mother! Do not cry! I am here! I will take away the pain with...≫ he lowered his voice.≪ I will use our magic, mother. I am strong! I can take away your disease.≫

Angel closed her free hand over Damon's clinging one.

≪ My darling boy… I'm afraid this time not even our magic is going to work...≫ Angel's voice was muffled due to the cloth over her mouth. Damon barely kept his hand from reaching out and ripping it off of her. He couldn't. The doctor said it had been a good thing, for the maids to do that. He wasn't really sure about the why, but the nice doctor had always been kind to him. Moreover, he had refused Giuseppe's inhuman request and for that, Damon couldn't help but trust him. The moment was interrupted by Giuseppe storming into the room, his face flushed and angry, sweat glistening on his forehead.

≪ Son. Get off that bed, now.≫ Damon buried his face in his mother's lap.

≪ No. I want to stay with mother.≫ Giuseppe approached the bed and lowered his hand to grab Damon by the collar. At that move, Angel sat up straight on the bed, the effort clear on her face.

≪ You lay one finger on my son, Giuseppe, and God is my witness, I will do _everything_ in my power so that you get affected by this deadly illness. ≫ Angel hissed, a very serious threat behind her low voice. Giuseppe audibly swallowed and took a step back.

≪ He will get it, too. You know that. You are contagious.≫ The man pointed at his son, a knowing glint in his eyes. Angel nodded and unceremoniously fell back on the pillows.

≪ I know. I just want to be with my son for a while, before God bids his will and takes me away from him.≫ Giuseppe cleared his throat.

≪ Very well, then. Everything that happens to him? It's on you, woman.≫ Angel watched her husband exit the room and sighed in relief. Then, she moved her gaze to her son's head, still resting on her thighs.

≪ Damon, sweetheart. He's gone. You can come up, now.≫

≪ Mother, Father wants to kill you! ≫ Angel cupped Damon's cheek and gently stroked it with her thumb.

≪ I know, baby. And I know you don't understand it. But your father is… He just doesn't get the bond of family. Not like we do. He is a good man, but he has different priorities,that diverge from my own. ≫ Damon's eyes were red and filled with heavy tears. His mother was going to die, and there wasn't a single thing he could do to stop it. ≪ If your father has decided that I have to die, so I shall. Neither one of us is strong enough to fight back.≫

≪ Mother… What will I ever do without you?≫ At that point, he wouldn't have been able to hold his wails if his life had depended on it. Damon just wrapped his arms around Angel and lay his head on her breasts, sobbing uncontrollably. Angel rubbed her son's back.

≪ Hush, now. Listen to me. Damon? Listen to me.≫ Angel grabbed her child by the shoulders and pushed him away from her, so that they could see each other's eyes. Angel's voice was breaking, but she did her best to keep it from ruining what she was about to say.≪ You will grow up. And you will become a handsome, brave, intelligent man. And you will have so many ladies courting you. Oh, I can tell. Those blue eyes will wretch many hearts. And one day, you will fall in love. I _want_ you to fall in love and be with that person as long as your life will let you. Love deeply and without hesitation nor remorse, because love always triumphs. It may hurt you, sometimes. It will. But that is the price for happiness. I found my happiness, when you looked at me for the first time, and all the pains I had ever suffered were lifted from my heart. ≫ Angel took Damon's hands in her own. ≪ And I want you to remember, that _no matter _what happens, family always comes first. _Always_. Always be there for Stefan. He will need you, because he will not have me to take care of him, like I did for you. You will have to do that, ok? You have to teach him about our magic. Promise me, you will teach him about our magic.≫ Damon nodded.

≪ Will that work with Stefan, too?≫ Angel smiled and sniffled.

≪ Of course! You shared my womb. My soul is in both of you. If you hold hands, you will become one. That is how the magic works, remember?≫ Angel's face was wet and lined by pain.

≪ I remember, mother. And I promise.≫ Damon replied, choking on his own tears. Angel smiled and took her son back into her arms sobbing along with him.

≪ Good boy. My sweet, perfect, good boy.≫ Angel held him close to her heart and after some time, she put a hand under his chin and lifted his head. ≪ You have to go, now.≫ Damon clenched his fists, holding onto his mother's vest. He didn't want to go.

≪ No.≫ Angel grabbed her son's hands and untangled them from her gown.

≪ Give me a kiss, my darling. ≫ Damon's lips quivered, as his mother spoke. ≪ Go ahead, baby. Kiss your mother goodbye, like a gentleman would.≫ Angel said in a trembling voice. The boy leaned in and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, resting his lips on her skin a moment longer than he should have. With that, he raised from the bed and stood beside his mother's laying form. Angel grasped Damon's hand one last time.

≪ I will always love you. Always. I will be your guardian angel, I promise.≫ Angel sadly smiled. ≪ And when Stefan grows up, don't let him forget about his mother. Never let him forget that she loved him dearly, even if God chose not to give her the time to get little Stefan to love her back.≫

≪ I will, mother. ≫ Damon brought his mother's hand to his lips and kissed it. ≪ I love you, mama.≫ Then, Damon closed his eyes, turned on his heels and ran away. He knew that was the last time he would ever see his mother alive.

He ran and ran, until he reached his brother's room. Damon got in, still sobbing and found the toddler playing in his crib. Sniffling, he walked towards it and took his brother's hand in his, getting on his knees and resting his heavy head on the soft and pleasantly cold fabric covering Stefan's cradle.

≪ Help me, Stefan. It hurts so much.≫ The green-eyed boy looked at his brother questioningly and clumsily shifted towards him. Stefan moved his free hand and playfully patted it against Damon's, gurgling in pure happiness. Damon's lips twitched upwards.

≪ Thank you, brother.≫

OOO

Damon cringed as he came back to present. He could see why Elena hated him, all right.

He had taken her mother away from her, before she even had the chance to know her.

Just like Stefan had never got to know their own mother.

Elena was Stefan.

What did that make him?

Damon slumped down on the couch, and stared blankly at the dark room.

That made him Giuseppe, his degenerate father.

That made him TB, the hideous disease that had taken his mother away.

* * *

**I already wrote the longest A/N ever written by man, so I just wanted to remind you that I would really appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me :)**

**All righty, then!**

**'Til next time :)**


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